


day 2: giving praise

by orphan_account



Series: the twelve days of shipmas (giving edition) [2]
Category: UNIQ (Band)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Praise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 14:12:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8848168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: all walls fall





	

**Author's Note:**

> twelve days of shipmas challenge for u-n-i-fics.tumblr.com
> 
> full prompt list on my tumblr

for all the pretences that yibo shows to the public, it’s amusing when he tries to carry on the same act at home.

they’ve been through too much together, all of them, to see the same cold front strangers do in their youngest. to them, he’s the one who seeks out simple contact first, inching a bare ankle across the bed to brush against seungyoun’s or shuffling closer in a blanketed lump to yixuan during a horror movie. they’ve seen everything from his laughter to his tears, various states of undress to fits of teenage angst during puberty.

yibo likes to forget that little fact though, selectively oblivious whenever it suits him. he thinks it makes him stronger, more mature, in their eyes, is the common but unsaid theory circulating in their midst when yibo insists he’s fine when he’s so clearly not.

“i can handle it.” he scowls and pulls himself up taller, scooting away from seungyoun’s hand stretched out to relieve him of the groceries. seungyoun doesn’t make to move closer, just cracks his usual cheeky grin and hovers close, swooping in to steady yibo when he overbalances from the load, nearly cracking his head on the pavement in the process. he doesn’t look at yibo as he swipes three of the bags from him in that moment of weakness, simultaneously distributing the load between them and issuing a challenge to beat him in a speedwalk race home.

“i’m fine.” he insists shakily, voice like brittle ice, even though they can practically hear him trembling in the dark after the turbulence of a nightmare. wenhan exercises the little tact he has and doesn’t point out that impromptu two am skype calls are not exactly the best evidence of being ‘fine’ and rattles off anecdotes that happened over the course of filming. yibo falls asleep on the line sometimes, snoring up a storm but it’s all worth it if his dreams are as calm as the eye.

“i’ll work harder,” he snaps, fuelled by the golden trio of sleep deprivation, sore muscles and the building heat. he practically stomps over to the stereo to stop the beat, slamming the spacebar down on the laptop to let a muggy silence fill the room, “i just need to get the dance break snappier, it’s not good enough yet. the choreo needs more work, it’s crap right now.”

“you shouldn’t say that,” yibo can see yixuan walk up to him, hunched over the laptop, waving the rest of their members out of the studio for a break. they all depart whilst yixuan pushes a drink bottle into yibo’s hand, “the routine is good. you choreographed it well and you’re performing it to the best of your ability. you’re good, yibo, you’re doing well and none of us are faulting you - ”

yibo’s adam’s apple bobs harshly with each swallow of water.

“ - don’t know anyone else who can deal with the pressure the way you do,” yixuan is saying, gaze burning into the area where yibo’s eyes would be if not obstructed by the bottle, “we can’t fault you, not when we’re so proud of what you’ve done and what you do.”

yibo stops drinking and grasps the plastic bottle tightly in his right hand, the material crinkling in his hold, “you think so?”

he catches yixuan’s eyes, his own filled with trepidation and something like longing, relief or something on that spectrum and it’s in that moment on a warmer-than-usual friday evening that yixuan understands.

“i think so,” he says firmly and musters every authoritative bone in his body, “you’re _good_ , yibo, so good. there’s nothing more you could do to make me, us, happier.” he takes a step closer and yibo near-collapses into his chest, letting himself be held and showered with praises that work like balm. the others trail in five minutes later and find them still in the same position. yibo stiffens in his arms and makes to pull away but sungjoo is the first to bound up and join the sweaty hug, catching on to the small whispers of affirmation that yixuan drops and beginning to mumble his own. it’s not long before all five of them are swaying precariously in a yibo-centred huddle, giving him the love that he can’t find for himself yet.

“we’ll never stop telling you how amazing you are,” yixuan says simply, jaw set firm and tone unarguable, “even in times where you feel like you aren’t.”

yibo looks up and smiles.

it’s raw unguarded thanks.

and it’s beautiful.


End file.
